


Once Upon a Time There Was a Big Man Who...

by ladyofreylo



Series: Reylogan Stories [2]
Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Ben Solo - Freeform, Blow Job, Clyde Logan is a college student, Clyde's metal arm, Community College, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, Disabilities, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Love Story, Oral Sex, Rey - Freeform, Rey Jayla Jackson, Rey has a new name RJ, Rey is NOT a professor, Reylo - Freeform, Reylogan, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Veterans, duck tape, high school almost sweethearts, my attempt to replicate accents, no kink this time y'all, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofreylo/pseuds/ladyofreylo
Summary: “Why, look what the cat dragged in.”  She held out her hand.Clyde looked a bit confused.  He took her hand and shook it.“Hello, Miss.  You my tutor?” His voice was deep and rich.  He had that West Virginia Boone County born and bred accent.“I swear to God, Clyde Logan, if you don’t say hi to me properly, then we are going to have a problem.”  She grinned and put her hands on her hips.  “Or don’t you remember me, you devil.  I am Rey Jayla Jackson from Scott High.”
Relationships: Clyde Logan & Rey (Star Wars), Clyde Logan/Rey (Star Wars), Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Reylogan Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741774
Comments: 66
Kudos: 168
Collections: ReylOlds





	1. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Big Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MTMagni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTMagni/gifts).



> OMG, y'all, another Reylogan fic for ya. Hope you don't mind that I gave Rey a little boost on her name: Rey Jayla Jackson. See, thing is, she was adopted by the Jackson family in Boone Co. They called her RJ for short. But it's still our beautiful Rey.
> 
> I tried to catch the flavor of the accents with spelling differences and cadences of the sentences. These are not mistakes or misspellings. This thing has been beta'd and proofread half to death. If you do find something, it's my own damn fault.
> 
> Also, the inspiration for this story comes from me trying to bug my husband into taking advantage of services for his own disability. Yes, I married a Clyde.
> 
> Thanks for all the extra help: jgoose13 (my beta), MTMagni (my smut sister), & pisinoe (my cheerleader). I couldn't do without you.
> 
> TW: Clyde takes his prosthesis off for RJ. No gore, just love.

_“Once upon a time, there was a big man.”_

That’s what he had written.

Rey Jayla Jackson, better known as RJ, saw the name on the paper: Clyde Logan. She’d be damned. He couldn’t be the same one tossed into the ninth-grade class straight out of juvie, like a castaway piece of Logan trash. He’d never said boo to anyone in her class, though they sure did try to bait him.

Now here she was looking at his name neatly typed at the top of a paper. Could it be the same guy?

RJ headed up the Boone Community College Writing Center, aimed at helping students with their required composition courses. She didn’t quite have enough tutors that term, so she’d jumped in and grabbed a small pile of papers that had come in, written by students waiting for help.

Clyde Logan couldn’t possibly be here, going to college.

RJ dutifully read the story about a big guy who pulled off an implausible burglary of a racetrack. The writer had a unique voice and a way with words. He did not, however, have much of a grip on correct grammar and punctuation.

In RJ’s experience, it was easier to deal with a writer’s grammar mistakes than a lack of creativity. Grammar mistakes were easily fixed. Creativity was not.

She made some notes in the margin, trying not to correct every living thing on the page, because that tended to make fledgling writers freak out.

Clyde should be there to collect his paper and talk about it any minute.

Sure enough, the Writing Center’s door swooshed open and a very tall man lumbered in. He wore a pair of camo shorts and a Bob Seger shirt. His hair was long but neatly combed; he had a beard and mustache—and intelligent eyes. He looked like Clyde Logan to her.

Rey rose to greet him.

“Why, look what the cat dragged in.” She held out her hand.

Clyde looked a bit confused. He took her hand and shook it.

“Hello, Miss. You my tutor?” His voice was deep and rich. He had that West Virginia Boone County born and bred accent.

RJ had almost lost her accent when she went up to Ohio for college, but it returned now and again when emotions ran high.

“I swear to God, Clyde Logan, if you don’t say hi to me properly, then we are going to have a problem.” She grinned and put her hands on her hips. “Or don’t you remember me, you devil. I am Rey Jayla Jackson from Scott High.”

His brows rose. “You’re Rey-Jay? Good lord, girl, you used to be an underfed, tiny thing. I never would have recognized you. Stand over here. Let me look at you.”

RJ laughed. “Well, here I am.” She stood next to him and looked way up to meet his eyes. “You always were a tall drink of water. But you used to be skinny and all ears.”

Clyde tucked one lock of hair back. “Got these fuckers… excuse me… these damn things covered up. No need to advertise.” His ears were oversized and stuck out from his head. He dropped the hair back into place. “You look all grown up.” He eyed her appreciatively and gave a soft whistle.

“It happens.” RJ laughed. “It is so good to see you. Set down here for a minute and tell me what’s going on.” She took a seat at the tutoring table and crossed her arms.

Clyde pulled out a normal-sized chair and sat down, looking like he might break it into tiny pieces at any moment. “These chairs ain’t made for me.”

RJ leaned over to check the legs on the chair. “No, but it’s all we got. They for normal-sized men, not big beasts like you. So, what’s going on?”

Clyde tried to snag his paper across the table. RJ held on to it. “Tell me what’s going on first,” she said. 

RJ’s eyes drifted down to Clyde’s missing hand. She nodded at it. “What’s that about?”

“Lost my hand in Iraq.”

He met her eyes, daring her to pity him.

RJ knew better than to bite. “Hmm,” she said. “Thank you for your service. You made a hell of a sacrifice.”

“I’m disabled,” Clyde said, flatly. “Except I can do most everything.”

“Yeah, you always could,” she replied, easily.

“How the hell do you know, little Rey Jayla Jackson?”

“Everybody knew you, Clyde Logan. Don’t think we didn’t.” RJ paused. “Are you back in school for a degree? Or…?”

“Right now, it’s ‘or,’” he said. “I own a bar and need some business help. I want to take a class or two because I don’t trust nobody with my bar or my money. I want to learn it on my own. I have to take some other sh… stuff… before they let me in business finance classes. I’m in this class.” He tapped the paper. “I have no fu… flippin’ idea what I’m doing.”

“I can help with your English class. What I’m here for.” RJ scooted over to sit closer to Clyde. She could feel his body heat and smell a mix of soap and outdoors on him—with a hint of hops, probably from his bar. She tried not get too much into his personal space, even though she would kill to lean into his warmth.

Clyde leaned back and spread his legs slightly. “Now, hang on, Little Thing, I told you about me. What about you? What are you doing?”

RJ lifted her chin and gave him a prim look. “We only have an hour to work, Clyde. And I’m not using it talking about my own self to the likes of you.”

He jumped on that statement real fast. “You come on down to the Duck Tape later and talk to me there. I’ll buy you a cold one.”

RJ smacked Clyde’s hand lightly, unable to stop herself from touching him some way, somehow. “I’m not supposed to fraternize with students and well you know it.”

“Ow,” he said. “I don’t know that and… ow… you’re going to injure my other hand, too. I’m already down one.”

“Let’s work,” RJ said.

“Well, all right. If you insist.”

RJ showed Clyde how to fix up his paper. Then she asked, “Do you get services through the Wellness office?”

Clyde shook his head. “No, through the VA.”

“I meant help with your classes, like typing papers or books on tape.”

“I’m disabled, Rey-Jay; I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were.”

“Everybody looks at me like that,” he fired back. “I got as many brains as the rest of you.”

“The rest of us?”

“College-types. I know I’m not all that and a bag of chips. I flunked the fuck out of high school. But I got my GED and now I’m here.”

RJ shook her head. “God save me from the defensive Logan clan. I meant, you oaf, do you have trouble typing with your different hand?”

“Yes,” he said. “But I do it anyway.”

“Can I make it easier for you?” RJ was determined to break through that Logan pride.

“No, thank you. Now, if you want a free drink, come on down to the Duck. If not, I’ll see you when I write my next one.”


	2. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Tall Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt from Rey Jayla Jackson's Journal in 9th Grade:
> 
> Clyde, the middle boy of the Logan clan, ain’t nothing like his big brother, Jimmy. Jimmy knows how to be a high school hero. He walks with a swagger. This boy is much taller, skinny. I don’t think he got fed at juvie. He’s got the biggest ears, nose, and lips I have ever seen.

_Once upon a time, there was a tall boy by the name of Clyde Logan._

Seeing him again took Rey Jayla Jackson right back to ninth grade when she’d seen his skinny ass come marching through the classroom door in January. He’d been in juvie, so the story went. Don’t mess with Clyde Logan, everybody whispered. He might act like a wild thing, but he had a deadpan face that showed zero emotion.

Some girls thought he was cute but dangerous. He looked right through them when they spoke to him. He didn’t care about anybody or anything. RJ watched him, fascinated. She wrote about him in her journal at night.

_Clyde, the middle boy of the Logan clan, ain’t nothing like his big brother, Jimmy. Jimmy knows how to be a high school hero. He walks with a swagger. This boy is much taller, skinny. I don’t think he got fed at juvie. He’s got the biggest ears, nose, and lips I have ever seen. They’re red. His lips, I mean. Not his ears. Well, that’s wrong. His ears got red when that dumbass MikeTroop called him a name. Then Jimmy said the word “Cauliflower,” and Clyde turned around to holler at him, “Did you just say ‘Cauliflower’ to me?” He seemed real upset. Then Clyde went after the kid who called him a criminal —God, he’s a dumbass, that MikeTroop. Clyde tore into Mike with fists flying, knocked Mike down, rolled on top of him to beat the sh*t outta him. He acted like he was gonna kill Mike with his bare hands. Jimmy yanked Clyde off before Mr. Kenobi saw anything. Or Clyde Logan would be outta here. That would be too bad. He’s got a delicate, almost sweet-faced look to him, even though he’s a big kid._

RJ watched Clyde from afar for the rest of the year. No one wanted to be around him much. They were too scared or disdainful of him to get to know him. Mike Troop lived to torment Clyde but even Mike didn’t dare take the picking too far.

That seemed to suit Clyde just fine. He was a loner. RJ herself was a nerdy kid who read too many books and wrote flowery prose in a notebook. She was basically a loner, too. She often wrote about Clyde—and his sweet, stony expression, his plushy, ripe lips. In secret, she thought of him when she found herself opening her legs at night.

In 10th grade, RJ volunteered in the school library. One afternoon, she found Clyde looking at old _Car and Driver_ magazines in a corner. She was clearing off tables and putting books away.

“If you like those magazines, you might like the books about cars. There are some nice ones that nobody looks at,” RJ told Clyde. 

He looked her up and down.

“Rey Jayla Jackson,” he said. “You shouldn’t talk to the likes of me. I’m no good.”

“You want those books or not?”

Clyde shrugged and followed RJ down the aisle where automotive books were shelved. She pointed at a couple of books about expensive cars and racing.

“These here are the car books. All on this shelf and the one below,” RJ said.

“Thank you,” Clyde mumbled. He reached out a giant hand and pulled a thick volume out with one long finger. He nodded at RJ and opened the book.

“Most welcome,” RJ said.

Clyde spent a lot of time in the library but never said another word to RJ. He nodded at her and she nodded back.

In 11th grade, Clyde was sitting by himself in the cafeteria, reading a book on the history of the Armed Forces in the United States. RJ had seen him give his lunch to his little sister earlier. He had no lunch after Mellie devoured his.

RJ walked over and sat by Clyde. He nodded at her. She nodded at him.

“Clyde Logan, I saw what you did for your sister,” RJ said, breaking the pact of silence they apparently had going. “You ain’t no criminal.” She slid her peanut butter sandwich in front of him. “And a man’s got to eat. I got extra.”

“I ain’t hungry,” he said. His stomach growled to prove him a liar.

RJ gave him a withering look. “No?”

“I ain’t taking charity, either.”

“Fine, be a pighead,” RJ said. She got up and stalked off, leaving the sandwich behind.

RJ went back to the table at the end of the lunch period and saw the damn sandwich still sitting there. Clyde was long gone. She scooped her sandwich up with a sigh and stuffed it back in her lunch bag.

In the library, Clyde came by RJ’s book truck. “I ain’t a pighead, Little Thing,” he said.

“Yes, you are,” RJ answered.

He turned to her and looked into her eyes. His were an unusual color, not like her hazel ones. “Thank you anyway. For the sandwich and books.”

“Welcome,” RJ said.

Clyde nodded at her, his amber eyes never leaving hers.

She nodded back, wishing for something more.

In 12th grade, Clyde lived up to everyone’s expectations and flunked out of high school. He didn’t have the grades to graduate. RJ would have helped Clyde study if she had known. But she didn’t, and one day he simply stopped coming to school. RJ looked for him. When she asked his sister, Mellie, where Clyde was, Mellie shrugged. “Army,” she said and walked away.

RJ saw Clyde from afar before he shipped out to basic training. He was mopping the floor near the kitchen at The Bonez Rib Joint. He and RJ were the only white kids in the whole place. Fred Jackson, RJ’s daddy, stood in line for their take-out dinner. RJ stood next to him, bored, looking around, when she froze. She stared at Clyde, mopping diligently, like a man on a mission. He felt her eyes on him and looked up. Their eyes met. He stopped mopping and wiped his brow with a towel he had over one shoulder. Clyde’s lips moved in a silent “hi.” RJ waved and said the same back. Clyde gazed at her until the manager almost ran into him coming out of the kitchen. “Behind you, there, boy,” he said, holding the package of take-out ribs for RJ’s family high above his head. Clyde stepped aside, still looking at RJ. She nodded. He nodded. Then, RJ turned and followed her dad out of the restaurant.

In the parking lot, she stood next to the car door while her father put the meal in the back seat.

“Daddy, can I go say bye to Clyde?”

Her father opened the car door to slide in. “Who’s Clyde?”

“The boy mopping the floor,” RJ said. “He flunked out of school and now he’s going into the Army. Can I go say hey?”

Fred's eyebrows raised, but he did not make a comment about RJ’s sudden need to speak to a boy. “Don’t take too long or the food’ll get cold.”

RJ ran back into the rib joint. Clyde was up front, wiping the tiny tables. RJ slid up to him.

He nodded. “Rey-Jay.”

“I hear you shipping out soon,” she said.

He stared at her for a second, then his lips tightened, and he looked away. He tried to show his indifference to the whole business, but his tense shoulders told another story. RJ wondered if he might be scared, just a little. She knew she would be terrified of leaving home.

“When you leaving, Clyde?”

“Tomorrow morning. Just finishing up here to help Clem out. What you want, Little Thing?”

“Nothing. Just saying hey.” RJ rocked on her heels a little and stuck out her hip.

Clyde stopped wiping the table and ran his hand down his shirt to dry it. He half-way reached out his left hand, then dropped it, while RJ watched. Their eyes met.

“I ain’t touching you with my dirty hand. You too good for that,” he said. His lips tilted up a little. “I’m just happy to see you before I go.”

“Clyde,” Clem hollered from the back. “I need them dishes washed, boy. Stop your jawing.”

“I got to go anyway,” RJ said. “Daddy’s waiting on me. Do good in the Army, Clyde.” She wanted to tell him to make her proud, but she couldn’t bring herself to say that. He might think she wasn’t proud of him already. But she was.

His intense, unreadable gaze never left hers. He finally opened his mouth to speak. “I will. Later, Little Miss Gator.”

RJ stood for a second longer and so did Clyde. She couldn’t seem to move away from him nor he from her. Finally, Clem came stomping out of the kitchen and broke the spell.

“Good lord, boy, I’d fire your ass if you wasn’t leaving tomorrow.”

RJ gave Clyde one last smile before she left.


	3. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Bar Called Duck Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RJ walked into the dark interior of the Duck Tape bar. There were a few people hanging out, chatting quietly, some just nursing drinks. Clyde stood behind the polished bar, impossibly tall and taking up a lot of space. He had a towel over his shoulder and another in his hand. He wiped the bar down.  
> RJ strolled up to where Clyde stood and sat down. Clyde nodded at her. She nodded back.  
> “I ain’t a pighead, Little Thing,” he said.  
> “Yes, you are, Clyde Logan,” RJ replied. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

_Once upon a time, there was a big man who owned a bar with a funny name._

No time like the present. RJ walked into the dark interior of the Duck Tape bar. There were a few people hanging out, chatting quietly, some just nursing drinks. Clyde stood behind the polished bar, impossibly tall and taking up a lot of space. He had a towel over his shoulder and another in his hand. He wiped the bar down.

RJ strolled up to where Clyde stood and sat down. Clyde nodded at her. She nodded back.

“I ain’t a pighead, Little Thing,” he said.

“Yes, you are, Clyde Logan,” RJ replied. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Care for a drink?”

“I would.”

“Name your poison.” Clyde set a glass down in front of him.

“Gin and Tonic,” RJ said.

Clyde turned and grabbed the bottle of Tanqueray; then he opened the mini-fridge to retrieve the tonic water. He tossed two ice cubes up high, so they flew down into a glass. He followed up with a long pour of gin, a generous splash of tonic, and a lime wedge. Did it all one-handed.

He placed a coaster down on the dark wood and gently slid the drink in front of RJ.

“Why are you here, if I’m a pighead and you can’t fraternize with me?”

RJ took a sip. It was an excellent gin and tonic, perfectly made, perfectly balanced.

“This is really good, Clyde,” RJ said.

“Don’t sound so damn surprised, Rey Jayla Jackson.” Clyde resumed wiping the counter of non-existent spills.

“You’re a touchy one, as usual,” RJ grumbled. “I’m here to tell you that there are services available to you as a student. It’s not charity, you big…”

Clyde pointed his mechanical hand at her. “Don’t say it. I swear I will not be responsible for my actions if you do.”

“All right, calm down. You will do better if you avail yourself of Federally-funded, legally-mandated resources. Your tax dollars at work, sir. You should use them instead of squandering the opportunity just because you have a big old stick up your butt.”

Clyde looked at RJ like she had come from Mars. RJ gave him a sassy grin.

Another customer came in and sat at the bar on the other side of RJ. Clyde turned to the new fellow with one last disgusted look at RJ.

RJ watched Clyde work. He deftly made a special drink for the newcomer, who had a brush cut of white blonde hair.

“Name’s Bang.” The newcomer stuck his hand out at RJ. “Joe Bang, as in I like to bang the ladies.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Clyde growled. “Not in my bar.”

RJ took Joe’s hand. “RJ.”

“You new around here?”

“Nope, I’m from here. I was away for a minute getting a fancy degree,” RJ said comfortably.

Clyde was pretending not to listen, but RJ thought she saw his ear peek out from inside his curtain of hair. She had the idea that his ears were like satellite dishes, turning toward whatever the owner wanted to pick up on.

“What you do now, Miss Fancy Pants?” Joe leaned over and grinned at her.

Clyde slammed the bottle he was opening down with a touch more force than necessary. “I thought you and my sister were together.”

Joe Bang looked Clyde up and down. “We are. What’s your problem?”

“Why’re you talking to Rey-Jay, then?”

“Rey-Jay, now that’s cute,” Joe said, gazing at RJ with interest. “Rey-Jay is what RJ stands for?”

“I’m Rey Jayla Jackson,” RJ said

Joe snapped his fingers. “The adopted kid. Over t’Madison. The Jackson family, right?”

“Yes,” RJ said.

“Well, I know about you from that crazy adoption place, Rock the Cradle. Wasn’t that what it’s called?”

RJ gazed at Joe. “Yes.”

“That was a real shame. About them. Clyde, you hear that? That place got shut down for selling children to families what want a kid. They sell you, darlin’?”

“Down the river,” RJ said. “Down the fucking river. But the Jacksons took me in. Thank the lord.”

Joe lifted his glass in a mock toast. “And pass the ammunition. Whoops. Sorry, Clyde. Sore subject.”

Clyde rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you get the fuck out of here?”

Joe pulled out his wallet, slapped some bills down, and downed his drink. “Take this to pay for another round for the lady. I’m off to see my Mellie’s belly.”

“That’s my sister you’re speaking of.” Clyde took the money, rang up Joe’s drink, and popped the bills into the register.

Joe saluted Clyde, laughed like a hyena, and left with a … well, a bang. Of the door.

Clyde just shook his head. “Damn fool,” he mumbled.

“All right,” RJ said, slipping off the stool. “I don’t want another drink. I have to drive home. Please think about using the resources the college can provide. I swear, your classes will be easier.” RJ tapped her knuckles on the bar. “Goodnight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” She grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

“I ain’t a pighead, and I don’t have a stick up my butt, Little Thing,” Clyde called after her.

“Time will tell,” RJ called back.


	4. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Computer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RJ walked by the glass-enclosed computer lab on her way to the Writing Center. Her attention was caught by a massive, shaggy-haired, stick-up-the-butt Clyde Logan poking away at a computer keyboard. With one hand.

_Once upon a time, there was a big man and a computer at war._

RJ walked by the glass-enclosed computer lab on her way to the Writing Center. Her attention was caught by a massive, shaggy-haired, stick-up-the-butt Clyde Logan poking away at a computer keyboard. With one hand. 

RJ groaned inwardly, hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, and pushed the door open. Clyde didn’t even look up. His face was furrowed in concentration. He was clearly wrestling with something: keyboard, mouse, ideas, whatever.

She plopped her bottom down on the seat next to him. “Hi, Clyde,” she said.

“Shhh,” he said. “This is a place to think and work. You can’t be in here chewing my ear.”

That vision rose unbidden in RJ’s mind. Clyde’s ears. Her mouth. Nibbles. She sat back quickly as if his ears were coming at her.

“I am not going to chew anything, thank you very much.” RJ found herself whispering at Clyde. Goddammit. She wasn’t going to do everything this man told her to do. “I have an easier way to do this computer thing, you absolute…”

She bit off the insult. Perhaps that wasn’t working. They were picking at each other like they were still in high school. RJ was a grown-ass woman and she had no idea why this giant… individual was making her act like she was fifteen again. It was nuts.

Clyde looked over at RJ slowly. “You absolute… what?” He raised his brows at her. “You got something to say, you best say it, Little Thing. I don’t like that kind of subterfuge and artifice some folks use.”

She felt like asking if he’d swallowed a dictionary but thought better of it. He seemed sensitive about his intelligence, and she’d be damned if she’d contribute to his low self-esteem even as a joke. She’d joke about his stubbornness and pigheadedness ‘til the cows came home. But best not poke the bear on the intelligence issue. RJ didn’t know why, but lots of animal metaphors came to her mind in dealing with Clyde Logan.

RJ had lost her train of thought. Clyde was gazing at her, waiting for her to say something. His eyes were such a strange shade of light brown. She remembered that from when he’d looked her in the eye in high school. Right now, those intelligent eyes searched RJ’s face. They landed on her lips for a moment, then held her gaze again. Whiskey-brown eyes, they were—the color of expensive whiskey as seen through a thick glass filled with ice.

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

“Uh,” RJ said. “What were we talking about?”

Clyde smiled a little. “I will be done with my paper soon. Can I drop you a copy on my way to class?”

“Sure,” RJ said. She picked up her bag and hoisted it on her shoulder. “Come on by when you print it out.”

It wasn’t until RJ got to the Writing Center door that she realized she didn’t talk to Clyde about the services he could use to do his work. Damn that man. He was slicker than an oil spill. She’d tried to talk to him three times and, each time, he’d managed to squirrel out of the discussion.


	5. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come to dinner at my house and we can talk about it," RJ said.
> 
> Where did that idea come from?
> 
> Clyde leaned back on his heels. “What happened to not fraternizing with the students?”
> 
> “You’re right. Sorry. Never mind.”
> 
> “No, no, no. You can’t back out now, Rey-Jay. The invitation is out there. I’m fucking coming over.”

_Once upon a time, there was a big man who wanted a date._

RJ escaped the hum of tutoring for a few minutes by sneaking into her office. She sent a quick email to the Wellness office regarding Clyde without mentioning his name. She wanted to know about services for veterans and physically disabled students. Within a few minutes, her colleague Gwen Phasma emailed back.

 _Are you writing about one specific student? By any chance?_ Gwen wrote.

RJ chewed on that for a moment. She debated whether she should out Clyde in an email or not. She really didn’t have the authority to discuss what was likely considered confidential information.

She called Gwen. Better not to put anything in writing.

“Yes,” she said when Gwen answered. “But I’m not supposed to be talking specifics with you.”

“Oh, it’s all right,” Gwen said. “He’s a tough nut to crack. We’ve been after him to come in and sign up with us for weeks.”

“We are talking about one Clyde Logan, are we not?” RJ asked. She already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Gwen said. “He is a veteran with a disability. I’m assuming he’s been in to see you at the Center?”

“He has. He will let us proofread his papers. But he is not amenable to any other services. It is my opinion, though, that he would benefit from access to talk-to-text programs, like Dragon Speak.”

Gwen sighed. “Yes, he would.”

“I’ll work on him.”

“Oh?”

“I knew him in high school,” RJ said.

“Well, good luck.”

And because RJ spoke his name and willed him into existence, Clyde knocked on her office door.

One of the tutors, Poe, was right behind him. “Sir, sir. You can’t just come in here and go to Miz Jackson’s door. Sir.”

Clyde turned and stared at Poe, who was dwarfed by the giant man in front of him. Poe took a step backward.

“It’s okay, Poe,” RJ said, glaring at Clyde.

Clyde nodded at RJ and walked into her tiny office.

“Stop intimidating my tutors, please and thank you,” RJ said.

“Stop hiring children,” Clyde said. “I’m looking for my paper.”

“Do you even have an appointment?” RJ struggled to keep her temper. He was cute and huge and all that, but he was showing a blatant disregard for procedure.

“Yes. With that little guy.” Clyde jerked his thumb toward the door. “But I would rather talk to you. What does he know?”

“Poe is a trained tutor, Clyde. I’m not always…” RJ stopped talking.

Clyde had placed his hand on her arm. “Please,” he said. “This ain’t easy for me. You know that. I flunked out of high school.”

RJ melted a little inside. It was hard for him to admit that. She remembered how he was in high school, bullied and harassed at every turn. He’d missed half a year by being in jail and didn’t have much going for him. It was amazing that he was coming back to school—even if just for a few classes. Clyde Logan was determined.

“Sure,” RJ said. “Come to dinner at my house and we can talk about it.” 

Where did that idea come from?

Clyde leaned back on his heels. “What happened to fraternizing with the students?”

“You’re right. Sorry. Never mind.”

“No, no, no. You can’t back out now, Rey-Jay. The invitation is out there. I’m fucking coming over.”

RJ stared at Clyde, assessing the situation in which she found herself. Clyde ducked his chin and looked down his long nose. He pressed his full lips together in a straight line.

“I’ll let you tell me about all these damn resources you got,” he said, biting the words off like they were choking him.

RJ nodded once.

Clyde nodded back.

RJ wrote her address on a sticky note and passed it to him.

Clyde arrived on RJ’s doorstep at precisely 4 pm on Friday. He told her he could come by and eat before heading off to work. Her tiny house felt overcrowded with him in it, but she was perhaps just a bit jumpy due to her nerves acting up.

Clyde brought a bottle of crisp white sparkling wine and easily opened it with a kitchen towel. RJ set out champagne flutes from the back of her cupboard and watched Clyde fill them with minimal bubbles. A complete pro.

Clyde handed RJ a glass to taste.

She sipped and enjoyed the bubbles tickling her nose. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

Clyde took a swallow. “Aw, hell. I was going to propose…” He stopped and turned his head to cough into his elbow.

RJ’s brows shot up. “Say what?”

Clyde wiped his eyes. “Those bubbles got me.”

“You were proposing?” RJ asked.

Clyde looked at her with a blank expression.

“A toast, Little Thing.” He rolled his eyes. “Though…” He shrugged.

“Shut up,” RJ said.

“You always did like me for some reason,” Clyde mused, good humor lurking in his eyes. “Maybe I could get you to marry me. I never thought about that.”

RJ poked a finger at Clyde’s chest. “Good heavens, Clyde, I asked you over for a working dinner. I didn’t have time in my schedule to meet with you at the Center. Quit writing fiction.” 

Then something happened that was so rare, RJ hadn’t ever seen it in her whole life.

Clyde smiled. Full on. With teeth and everything.

RJ blinked. Clyde’s smile lit up the kitchen. It lit her up in ways she couldn’t even begin to explain. He was fucking gorgeous when he smiled.

Then he laughed. Out loud. It was the sweetest, most precious sound RJ had ever heard in her life. Somber Clyde Logan with a baritone belly laugh. He sounded happy for a moment, and RJ was sure she’d never seen him happy. Ever.

RJ sucked in a breath. She stared, transfixed. She fought the urge to touch Clyde’s face, his hair, his lips—preferably with hers.

That gorgeous smile faded as Clyde looked into RJ’s eyes, with a look so tender that she sucked in a breath. He was the one who reached out to touch RJ’s face, gently. His hot stare provoked a rich and powerful response in RJ. She could not hold back another second. She walked into his big body, where she knew, down to the bone, he would enfold her in his strong arms. She felt the metal hand against her back as he hugged her tight. Clyde buried his nose in RJ’s hair and kissed the top of her head. They stood together just feeling each other’s warmth, Clyde’s lips against RJ’s hair. He moved his mouth down to her temple and she closed her eyes.

It was so right. She knew and she was sure he did, too. It was always so right, even in high school, though she didn’t dare admit it back then. But if Clyde Logan had made any moves on her back then, she would have been his girl. In a red-hot minute. She would have melted into him and never looked back. She didn’t give a fuck about his reputation, about his criminal record, none of it. He was Clyde, the lonely boy who quietly read books and gave his lunch away.

Clyde bent down a little farther to trail his soft lips down RJ’s cheek. She tilted her head up to look into his eyes. She lifted a hand to rest it on his face. His beard tickled her palm as he turned his face to kiss her hand.

“Clyde,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Will you kiss me? For real?”

Clyde nodded, eyes never leaving RJ’s. “Like I always wanted to do in high school.”

“Yes.”

So he did. Slowly, his lips met hers in a closed-mouthed, sweet, gentle press. His nose bumped hers and he pulled away. That was not what she meant by a kiss.

“Clyde,” she said.

“I know,” he answered. “I’m trying not to scare you.”

“Not scared,” RJ murmured.

Clyde slid his hand into RJ’s hair and cupped her head with his large hand. He bent again to capture her lips. This time, he opened his mouth on top of hers and nudged her lips apart. She parted her lips to receive Clyde’s soft, wet tongue. RJ heard herself make a hungry noise as she tasted sweet champagne. He echoed her groan. She slid her tongue into Clyde’s mouth, and they ate each other, hungry to taste for the first time. His heartbeat accelerated under RJ’s hand and they both breathed harder as they kissed. Clyde changed positions, turning his face sideways, bending his knees, desperate to pull RJ closer to him. She pressed her body to his, wanting to feel every square inch of him and put her hands everywhere at once. His own hand drifted down to cup her bottom and rock her pelvis on his. The feeling intoxicated her, and she ran her hands down his strong arms, looking for more contact.

Then she hit the mechanical arm. Clyde froze. He pulled away.

He stepped backwards. “No, Rey-Jay, I can’t. This ain’t right. I ain’t been with a woman, since…” He swept a hand through his hair.

RJ stared at him. She nearly had whiplash from his about-face in attitude. “What?”

Clyde gave a short, miserable laugh. “I ain’t good for you. You know that. What am I fucking doing? I got to go.”

He turned away and started heading toward the door.

“Stop right this minute, Clyde Logan,” RJ shouted at him.

He turned and looked at her.

“What the fuck are you raving about?” RJ stomped up to him.

“I told you,” he snapped. “I got nothing to offer a pretty, intelligent, successful woman like yourself. I’m a fucking ex-con, cripple, and high school dropout. A lowlife Logan, cursed as hell. I own a fucking bar.” He pressed his lips together, raked his hand through his hair again, making it fluff up. His eyes started to water, and he looked everywhere but at RJ. His lips trembled slightly. Then he said, softly, “And you shouldn’t be kissing students.”

RJ put her hand over her mouth. Clyde had her there. She felt a little sick and a lot empty.

Clyde heaved a breath. “Sorry about dinner. I’ll meet with Poe later. Bye, Rey-Jay.”


	6. Once Upon a Time, There Were Leftovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clyde shook his head. “Your favorite pighead.”
> 
> RJ gave him a disgusted look. “Whatever you say. I’m not here to argue with you.”
> 
> “I’m not entirely clear why you are here,” Clyde mumbled.
> 
> “Just eat the fucking food,” RJ ground out.
> 
> Clyde seemed satisfied that he’d rattled her.

_Once upon a time, there was a big man who liked leftovers._

RJ admitted defeat for about two days. That was the longest she’d ever admitted defeat in her whole life. She busily beat herself up for any number of idiot things, such as, up to, and including letting Clyde walk out her door. That was the biggest defeat. And she was kicking herself royally.

Really, RJ didn’t give two shits about kissing a student when it came right down to the nub. She’d give up her job, gladly, and work any damn where, if it meant she could kiss Clyde Logan. That interesting idea popped into her head on Saturday night. She examined it from all sides. Turns out, RJ had used the student and tutor dynamic to protect herself from feeling too strongly about Clyde, especially if he didn’t feel anything for her.

Well, clearly, the man liked her. So there was that…

On Sunday night after brooding all damn day, RJ finally understood. The real problem was that Clyde Logan did not believe he was good enough for her—because of his past or his missing hand or whatever. Maybe he didn’t think he was good enough for the services offered by the college. Or he needed to prove something about his abilities. Or whatever. RJ would have considered all this shit completely ridiculous, but Clyde was in a twist and determined to do things his own way, as usual. She didn’t mean to minimize his feelings about everything, but, honest to Pete, she didn’t give a fuck about Clyde’s past or his hand. She loved…

She fucking loved him. Or at least she thought she did. They had barely spent time together. Maybe it was just wild sexual attraction. Maybe it was not real or lasting. Maybe it was…nothing.

No, it was not nothing. Not at all. If it was nothing, Clyde would not have run away. He wanted her and she wanted him—badly.

By Monday supper time, RJ had worried the whole damn situation to death. She’d gnawed and chewed, stressed and stewed, until she was ready to scream.

She had a strong suspicion she wasn’t the only one. Clyde would be doing the same thing, she’d bet dollars to donuts. And she bet he’d be doing it at his bar.

It was closed when she got there, but she saw a big black truck parked around back. She just knew that was Clyde’s. RJ pulled her bag over one arm, grabbed the handles of the insulated dish cover she’d brought with her, and slid out of her car. She walked up to the back door and banged on it. She waited. No answer.

Then she saw the doorbell for delivery services. What the hell. She rang it and waited.

Sure enough, a wild Clyde Logan pushed the door open. He squinted at her.

“Hi,” she said. “I brought you leftovers.” She ducked under Clyde’s arm and marched into the storeroom with neatly stacked boxes. It was spotless. A broom stood in one corner.

RJ whizzed on through to the front of the bar and dropped her dish cover on the nearest table.

“Get in here and eat before it gets cold,” she called.

Clyde wandered in more slowly, watching RJ with wary eyes. He seemed unable to process that RJ was in his bar. “What?”

RJ gestured to a seat. “Get in here and eat. It’s going to get cold.”

Clyde kept his eyes on her as he walked over and sat, carefully, almost unwillingly. “Why are you here?”

“To feed you. I can’t eat all this by myself.” It wasn’t leftovers at all. She’d cooked new food, but he didn’t have to know that. She pulled out a variety of plastic containers, two plates, silverware, and napkins. 

“Huh,” Clyde remarked. He had that completely deadpan, unreadable look on his face, like he had plans and wasn’t about to share them. Like he had something big tied up inside that was going to leap out and run rampant if he so much as twitched. Like something was leashed…

Clyde leaned forward suddenly, as if the leash had snapped.

RJ’s gaze shifted to Clyde and she saw a muscle twitch under his eye. She recognized that sign. He’d worked something out inside himself, but she sure didn’t know what it was.

He jumped up. “Beer?”

“Sure,” RJ said, slowly, not taking her eyes off him. “Corona, lime. Please and thank you.”

Clyde strode to the bar, lifted the gate, stalked inside, and snatched two beers out of the cooler. His movements were crisp and deliberate, contained. She’d never seen Clyde like this, except when he went after Mike Troop. She bit her lip and drew a shaky breath. Maybe coming here hadn’t been the best idea.

Clyde returned with two bottles under his arm, a small dish of limes, and bottle opener. He dumped everything on the table. His face revealed nothing about his state of mind.

“Can’t carry open beer very well with my other hand. I gripped too loose when I first got it and the bottle crashed to the floor.”

“No big deal. I can open a beer.”

“I can too. I just can’t carry one in my hand. Getting better at it, though.”

RJ breathed again and handed Clyde a full plate of roast chicken, black-eyed peas, rice, and cornbread. He nodded his thanks.

“I imagine you are getting better at everything with that hand,” RJ said. She began to eat her own food. “You are one determined, smart, resourceful man.”

“With a pighead and stick up his butt,” Clyde commented, lips twitching in an almost-smile.

“We all can’t be perfect,” RJ said.

“Like yourself,” Clyde said, rather caustically. “Miss Thing being all that in high school and in her big career.”

“Ha. Not at all. And that’s not fair to say.”

“You always were a girl on a mission to clean up lowlifes and help us out.”

“No other lowlife but you, I swear.” RJ felt stung by Clyde’s accusation, but she kept her tone light, not sure of her footing.

Clyde shook his head. “Your favorite pighead.”

RJ gave him a disgusted look. “Whatever you say. I’m not here to argue with you.”

“I’m not entirely clear why you are here,” Clyde mumbled.

“Just eat the fucking food,” RJ ground out.

Clyde seemed satisfied that he’d rattled her.

They ate in silence, Clyde eyeing RJ in a most unnerving fashion. RJ said nothing until Clyde had eaten every scrap and swallowed his beer.

“Another?” he asked, standing up.

RJ agreed and Clyde brought two more beers over.

RJ squeezed her lime into the top and pushed the entire slice inside. She licked her fingers. Clyde watched that, too. He cleared his throat. 

RJ offered him a hand. He shook his head.

“Don’t tempt me, Rey.” His gaze held hers. She shivered at the look on his face. “Because if I start, I’m not going to stop. I’m going to have you right here on this fucking table. I’m not in a good mood.”

RJ shrugged, though she felt a thrill race through her at the thought. “Me, neither. And I don’t see a problem with having me any old way you like.”

“What’s changed? Nothing. I’m still me. You’re still you. We can’t.” He pressed his lips into a firm line.

RJ registered Clyde’s faintly angry expression. Then she decided she was done with his bullshit. Finished. Fed up. Over it. 

“Lookie here, you want to talk about all the deficits of your life? That stupid Logan curse? How about we talk about mine? You think you’re not good enough for me? Ha. I was sold on the black market like a piece of meat. Would you like to talk about that?”

Clyde stared at RJ, as she got more wound up.

“What did Joe mean by that? Is that true?” Clyde asked, roughly.

RJ nodded slowly. “I was six, living in a group home run by Rock the Cradle Adoption and Foster Agency. I have vague memories of parents somewhere in my dreams, but I don’t know who or where.” She fiddled with the bottle of beer. “I keep thinking about trying to find out, but I get too depressed about the whole idea.”

“You don’t want to know what happened?” Clyde asked, in softer tones. He suddenly reached out and took RJ’s hand. He gave it a squeeze.

RJ twined her fingers in his. It was nice to have contact with Clyde while she spoke, even if he was grumpy. She rarely talked about the “other” life, as she called it.

“I’m not sure,” RJ said. “But, after a while, I was sent away from the group home to live with two people I didn’t like. The Plutts. They bought me to be their living doll, I think. I had to wear certain clothes and stuff. They showed me off for a while. But then they must have gottn bored and didn’t want to deal with a real child. That’s when the Jacksons came and got me.

“Who were they to you?” Clyde gently stroked RJ’s hand with his thumb.

“Next door neighbors who sometimes found me wandering in the backyard, unfed, in the same dirty clothes, nobody home.” RJ closed her eyes, struggling with a wash of emotion.

Without warning, Clyde reached out and tugged RJ onto his lap. He settled her bottom across his thighs. His warmth comforted her; his breathing helped slow hers. She wrapped her arms around him, and he did the same. He cuddled her close to his big body.

“I was thrown-away trash,” RJ whispered in Clyde’s silky hair.

“Not to me.” Clyde pulled back and gave her a fierce look. “Not by a long shot.”

RJ’s eyes threatened to spill over. She blinked. Clyde reached over and snagged a napkin for her. He stroked her back gently, then pulled her close to him again.

“Thank you,” RJ mumbled, resting her head on Clyde’s shoulder.

“You were the only one who really wanted to talk to me at school,” he said, lips close to her ear. “I was an asshole and never told you that I appreciated it. I saw you looking at me. You didn’t judge. You just watched. You…” He stopped and swallowed. “You seemed to care, though I don’t know why.”

RJ laughed a little shakily. “Takes one to know one, know what I mean? Didn’t you feel like you’d been thrown away, too?”

His eyes met hers as the idea dawned on him. “Yes, yes I did. A good-for-nothing criminal. That’s me.”

“Not to me,” RJ said, echoing Clyde’s words right back to him. “I saw that you cared. I saw your intelligence and kindness. I saw that dumbass Mike Troop picking on you.”

“Aw, who gives a fuck about him? He moved away to Pittsburgh and is doing what the fuck ever. Heard he was on his third marriage.”

RJ huffed a short laugh. “Well, anyway. You and I are a lot alike, Clyde, and I don’t give a rat’s bee-hind about your past.”

Clyde shook his head. “I don’t get you at all. What do you want with me?”

“You never did understand.”

“Nope.”

“We’re the same kind of person—loners, misfits. We connect with each other. Always have.” RJ leaned in and stole a kiss from Clyde’s full lips. He kissed her back. She pulled away. “I’ve been thinking. You’re not really my student. Maybe it’s all right if we…”

She was cut off by Clyde’s lips. He mashed his face against hers, seeking her lips, his hand sliding up and down her back.

“Clyde,” she gasped.

“Yes, Rey,” he said, covering her face with kisses.

“Here?”

He shoved the food aside with one long sweep. He picked her up off his lap with the same arm and hoisted her on the table.

“Got a problem?” he asked.

RJ gulped. “No. I’d fuck you anywhere, anytime, any day of the week.”

He nodded at her. “Same.”

Clyde kissed Rey with a feverish passion. He kissed her so hard, their teeth clinked. Neither cared as they sucked each other’s tongues and moved their lips to gain greater access to each other. RJ was starving—she hadn’t realized it, but she was. This man, this gorgeous man, wanted her and she needed him so badly it hurt. She nuzzled Clyde’s mustache and ran her cheek over his soft beard. She slipped her fingers into it and tugged. He rewarded her by licking each of her fingers in turn, sucking them, and watching her reaction with passion-darkened eyes. RJ pulled her fingers out of Clyde’s soft mouth to run a tentative finger over his lush lips.

“These,” she said. “I need these everywhere on me. They are so beautiful, soft, and pillowy.” She stopped tracing his lips to press her mouth against them, to lick them open and feel his tongue dart between her lips. She groaned into his mouth, thinking of other places for his tongue.

Clyde pulled away, breathing hard. He put his forehead against hers. “Rey, my Rey. I need you so badly. I want to fuck you everywhere in this fucking place.”

“God, yes. I need it, too.” She leaned back to expose her neck. Clyde obliged by trailing kisses downward to her collarbone. 

RJ pulled Clyde’s shirt up to touch his broad back. Her fingers found a few scars from his time in Iraq, but she just noted them and moved on to feel the rest of him.

He ran his hand all over RJ’s body and nudged her legs open for him, keeping his lips glued on hers, his tongue in her mouth. He stood between her legs and thumbed her right through her capri’s, finding her sensitive spots based on her soft moans and movements.

“These need to come off,” he whispered against her lips. “I need to touch you. I need to eat you out. Right here.” His fingers stroked her covered cunt. “Right now.”

RJ stood to shed her clothes, wanting Clyde’s mouth, his hand, his cock.

“Wait,” Clyde said and lifted her up in his arms. He strode quickly to the back office with RJ in his arms as if she weighed nothing. He kicked the door shut behind them. It resounded with a loud thud throughout the bar. Clyde dropped RJ on the small couch where he sometimes took a nap by himself. Not this time. RJ reached for him and they kissed hungrily, while she stripped Clyde’s t-shirt off. He knelt in front of her. She touched his muscled chest and ran her fingernails over his nipples. He groaned and started tearing at her clothes with both hands. She tried to push his hands away, saying she could do it.

He ignored her and stripped her himself with his own two hands.

“Little girl,” Clyde gasped when he had RJ nude in front of him. She held his gaze for a moment, reveling in her power to darken his eyes with lust.

Clyde buried his face between her breasts and nipped her with his sharp teeth. His hot mouth found her nipple and she cried out, threading her hands through his long hair. His beard scratched her skin in the most delicious way. He nuzzled her belly, licking a long, hot path downward. RJ scooted down more to open her legs wide for him, so he could have her as a feast. She wanted his face, his lips, and tongue to find her hot core and take her where she was desperate to go. He obliged, slowly nosing her fur, and moving closer to her wetness, way too gentle for RJ to bear.

She pulled his long hair and growled his name.

He lifted his head. “I’m going to devour you like no other man has ever done. Do you understand me, Rey-Jay? I’m not messing around here.”

RJ scooted her ass down even more to tip her pussy up for him. “Eat me,” she gasped. “You don’t have to hold back. Eat me now, like you want to. I know how much you need it because I do, too. Then fuck me hard, Clyde. I won’t fucking break.”

Finally, after an eternity of staring into RJ’s face, Clyde nodded once. With a groan torn from his soul, he slipped one big arm under RJ’s legs. He pressed an open-mouthed, ravaging kiss to her cunt, tongue slipping out to lick every soft fold with a hunger he could never deny. RJ cried out in joy, cupping Clyde’s head, feeling his soft hair sliding through her fingers while his wicked tongue curled inside her and downward to taste her tight little rosebud. She moaned his name, while he used his whole face to eat her out. 

She raised her hips a little and urged Clyde upward. She felt him smile against her thigh. He raised his head.

“You want something, my girl? What you want from me? Huh? What?” His small smile told RJ he was teasing her. He nibbled her thigh, moving downward away from what she needed.

“No, no, Clyde, go up, up. God, I need you to…”

“Do what?” he teased. “You need what? You better say it, girl. Tell me.”

“Suck my clit, goddammit.” RJ grabbed his head and pulled it toward her. She may have ripped out a few dark hairs with her fist.

Clyde just laughed slowly. “All right. If I can find it. Let’s see…” He used his fingers to open her lips and peer at her cunt. “Oh, I think I might have found that sweet little jewel. Let me see.” He raised his brows at her. “Let me see.”

He bent his head, eyes on her and found her clit with unerring ease. He flicked it softly. RJ opened her legs wider, if that was even possible, and cried out. She clasped Clyde’s head again with her hands. He sucked her hard clit into his mouth and twirled his tongue around it. RJ’s world shrunk to the pinpoint of that spot and Clyde’s warm tongue. She shattered before she had time to think about it. Clyde held her with one strong arm, the mechanical arm resting to one side. RJ drifted as Clyde licked her juices and moaned in pleasure.

He raised his head to look into her dreamy eyes. “I should have caught you a long time ago. We could have done this every damn day.”

RJ smiled and touched Clyde’s face. “I might have let you.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you might have.”

The smile made RJ catch her breath again. “Oh, Clyde,” she whispered. “You need to smile more often. You are so beautiful when you do.”

Clyde’s smile faded. He gazed at her with uncertain eyes. “I don’t know what you see in me,” he said.

“Everything,” RJ said. She reached out for him. “Stand up, my Clyde.”

He stood.

“Do you want to take that mechanism off first?” RJ looked up at him, his hair tousled, and his face unreadable again.

“It’s not a pretty sight,” he said.

She reached for the prosthesis. “I don’t care.”

He stopped her. “You would.”

“All right,” she said. “Leave it on.” She unbuckled his belt from his long shorts. 

She heard Clyde suck in a breath as she pulled the belt out of the loops and dropped it on the floor. She worked the button and got the zipper down. The shorts dropped to the floor. Clyde toed his shoes off. RJ slid her hands down his hard belly to the bulge in his underwear. With a swift movement, she pulled the underwear down to see Clyde’s large dick thrusting up from the dark hair between his legs. It was glorious. She gasped.

“Beautiful. Huge.” RJ touched it while Clyde swayed a little on his feet. “Sit,” she said. “Let me explore you.”

Clyde sat and RJ knelt between his thick thighs. She ran her hands up and down those big, long legs. She took his dick in her hand and then in her mouth.

Clyde groaned. “Little girl, we could have done this, too. This too.” He ran his hand through her hair. “I need both hands to touch you. I need both to do what I want to do to you. All the things.”

RJ took his mechanical hand and found the spot where Clyde’s arm met the mechanism. She kissed the forearm and the inside of his elbow. “If you take it off, I will kiss your whole arm, Clyde.”

He nodded, transfixed by her eyes. But he nudged her back toward his cock. “Another time,” he said, softly.

RJ understood. She sucked his dick in her mouth and pleasured him with her tongue. His breathing became labored and hitched. Clyde’s hips bucked up and he pulled himself out of RJ’s soft mouth. He kissed her lips and murmured, “I want you. I want to be inside you, but I ain’t got nothing here. I have to pull out.”

“I’m good, Clyde. I don’t sleep around and I’m on birth control. You can come inside me.”

“I don’t sleep around either. Girls don’t like my arm.”

“I love your arm. I don’t give a fuck,” RJ said. She scrambled up to kneel on either side of Clyde’s thighs. 

“Come here,” he said. “Come here.”

RJ positioned herself on top of Clyde and rubbed her wet cunt against the head of his dick. He growled and held himself in place with one hand. The mechanical hand touched RJ’s back, trying to guide her down. She rocked her hips and let him guide himself inside her. She pushed down while he thrust upward, and they joined fully and completely. RJ’s head tipped back as she rode Clyde. He helped her move with both hands on her hips. The mechanical hand bit into her flesh but she didn’t really care. She needed this man more than breath and life. She needed him inside her.

Clyde’s thumb drifted between his belly and RJ’s fur to slowly circle her clit. She ground down on his thumb and he followed her when she moved upward. She cried out as the orgasm crashed upon her with Clyde’s cock fully inside her. His hips began thrusting upward and his hands bit into her hips while he sought his pleasure. It wasn’t deep enough for either of them.

Clyde slid forward on the couch with a low grunt, picked her up, and lowered her down on top of their clothes piled on the floor. He pulled her legs up and around his hips.

“I can’t,” he said. “I have to fuck hard, Rey. I have to take you. Harder. Be in your pussy so deep. So deep. So deep.” It was Clyde’s chant, and, with every word, he pounded himself into RJ, holding himself up on his arm to roll his hips into hers. She met each of his thrusts with pleasure and bumped herself into his hips when he found his rhythm. Her movements inflamed him further.

He came with a low roar, tipping his head forward in ecstasy. His hair fell down to cover his face. His eyes were closed as the waves rippled through him. RJ watched him come, stroked his long hair back softly, and marveled at her power to make this huge man happy. She would be glad to make him happy every day of the year. If he would let her.

RJ pulled Clyde closer to her. She felt his heaving chest and listened to his heartbeat. He was still lodged inside her, though she could feel him slipping out a little. He shifted and tried to push himself back inside.

“I don’t want to leave,” he said into her ear. “I want to stay inside you forever.”

RJ touched his face. “That might make going to work a bit challenging.”

He raised his head and smiled at her. “You can say, ‘Oh, don’t mind him, everyone. He’s just hanging out with me.’”

“Or in me,” RJ replied.

“I’m not leaving,” Clyde proclaimed.

“That’s all right. You can stay.”

They packed up and drove back to RJ’s house. They fell into bed again and started to make love properly with plenty of room to explore each other.

After Clyde’s damn prosthesis pinched RJ once too often, she told Clyde in no uncertain terms to take the thing off or else.

Clyde sat up and removed the prosthesis. He set it on the chair nearby. He kept the liner covering his residual limb, but RJ snapped her fingers.

“Take it off, Clyde. Let me see the whole thing. You’ll feel better.”

“You may not feel better, but all right. You asked for it,” he said and peeled the liner off his arm. He set it on top of the arm.

RJ sat next to him and took his limb in her hand. She looked at it.

“Does it pain you?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” he said. “But I got fitted real good now. Drove to Charlotte to get it done. If it pains me, I just go get it adjusted.”

“I meant your arm,” RJ said. “Does your arm pain you?”

“Not much anymore. It did at first, but the doc told me it was nerves getting adjusted and it would go away in time.”

RJ inspected it further. “I could massage it for you, if you need me to.”

Clyde stared at her. “Not sicked out by it?”

“No, I’m all right,” she said, seriously, looking into his eyes. “It’s you, Clyde Logan. It’s just your arm.” She paused. “Though I wish I would have touched you back then when we were kids. Held your hand. Maybe felt both of those hands on me.”

Clyde sighed. “Me, too. I regret not snatching you up and kissing the living shit out of you. I didn’t think you’d let me. And I knew who your daddy was. He’d have beat my Logan ass, that one.”

RJ laughed softly. “He’s a big old bear like you, but you two would get along fine now.”

Clyde leaned in and kissed RJ. “I’ll meet anyone you want me to, Little Thing.”

Then he nudged her back on the bed and snuggled up next to her. She put her head on his shoulder.

“Wait,” Clyde said. “Do me a favor and get on my other side. I want to touch you and I got no hand to do it with.”

“Touch me with your arm first,” RJ said, kissing him. “Will you?”

Clyde reached over and ran his forearm along RJ’s soft skin. He watched her eyes. She closed them. 

“Your arm feels fine to me,” she whispered, as he lightly touched her nipples. His touch was gentle, soft, even without a hand; his skin felt warm and a little rough with hair. RJ lifted Clyde’s arm to her lips and covered it with kisses.

Clyde sucked in his breath. “You don’t have to….”

RJ ignored him and licked his arm from elbow to end, then kissed the end gently. She watched his face tense up and he tried to pull away. She climbed on top of him and sat her naked self on his legs. She let go of his arm. “I know that I don’t have to kiss your arm, Clyde, but I…” She didn’t finish it. She almost told him… but she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it yet.

Clyde sat up, too, and wrapped his hand and arm around her. He pulled her close and kissed her lips, slowly, softly, repeatedly.

“How do you feel about being mine?” Clyde asked in between kisses.

Joy welled up in RJ. “I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours.”

He tumbled her down onto her back and covered her with his body. He rested on his forearms to look at her face. “I’m so grateful I found you again. I am happy you are mine because I’m yours. Always have been, since I saw you looking at me. I was just too scared to do anything about it. I’m not now.”

RJ wrapped her arms around his big shoulders.

“Let me love you, Little Thing,” he murmured. “Because I do.”

She smiled at him. “I love you, too, big man.” She ran her hands through his hair and tucked his waves back from his ears. “I loved you even when you had these beauties hanging out.”

She pulled him down and nuzzled his ear, whispering that she had always wanted to kiss one. He turned his head and let her touch them both. Then he slid down her body to help himself to her sweet juices and set her writhing underneath his tongue. He teased her shamelessly again until she could almost not bear it. He laughed and held her close before giving her what she needed.

RJ said Clyde’s name as she came, and he held her as she rode the pleasure. Then he crawled up her body to join them together and be as one.


	7. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Stubborn Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RJ cajoled and scolded, begged and pleaded with him to get some damn help at the college. He took her to bed and made her toes curl. That ended most discussions. Then he’d sit at her kitchen table and tap away at her laptop instead of using the computer lab. He wouldn’t even let RJ type for him, though he would yank her on his lap with one really long arm and kiss the living shit out of her.

_Once upon a time, there was a big, stubborn-ass man, who made his girlfriend crazy._

Clyde Logan was still the most stubborn man in the universe, though. RJ cajoled and scolded, begged and pleaded with him to get some damn help at the college. He took her to bed and made her toes curl. That ended most discussions. Then he’d sit at her kitchen table and tap away at her laptop instead of using the computer lab. He wouldn’t even let RJ type for him, though he would yank her on his lap with one really long arm and kiss the living shit out of her. 

She simmered and gnawed on the issue until she hit on an idea. She called Gwen at work when Clyde wasn’t around.

“Girl, I need to ask you something,” RJ said.

“Shoot.”

“Can I just get the laptop for him with the thing loaded on it?”

There was a pause. “You? Like, just come in and get it?”

“Yes,” RJ said.

“Why?”

“Because he is a giant pighead,” RJ said.

There was a short, rather startled silence on the other end. RJ realized what she had just given away to her colleague.

“Uh, okay,” Gwen said.

“I am just frustrated,” RJ said. “Don’t mind me.”

“And it sounds like you’re in love with him, too. Did you two date or something?”

“Uh, no. Just friends.” RJ bit her tongue on the lie. 

Friends who had fucked like crazy, but it was not good to advertise her blossoming relationship to Gwen.

“You want to get his computer and take it to him?”

“Next time he’s here in the Center, I want to have it up and running and show him how it works with Dragon Speak on it. That’s all. If he’s not going to pick one up, I could do it and try to offer it to him here.”

“Noble,” Gwen said. There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

RJ said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Gwen drew an audible breath. “Word of advice, my friend. Don’t. Just don’t do whatever it is you are doing. It never turns out well.”

“So, that’s a no, then?” RJ asked.

“Show him on a laptop in the Writing Center instead,” Gwen said, flatly. “It will be better for everyone.”

“We don’t have Dragon Speak, Gwen.”

“That I can provide to the Writing Center, free of charge,” Gwen said. “I will email you the code to download it.”

RJ put the voice-to-text program on her Writing Center work laptop instead of the ones in the lab. She could take the laptop home with her, and no doubt Clyde would be there after work to snore like a beast in her bed. She got used to him just showing up, looking to take a shower, often with her. Then he chomped down some cereal, brushed his teeth with her extra toothbrush, and laid his big self in her bed. He patted the bed and held out his hand. RJ slipped in beside him to make love before sleeping. It was starting to feel like they were living together. She couldn’t bring herself to freak out about it.

She’d started to fix Clyde heartier snacks when he came rolling in at night. He seemed grateful and ate whatever she put in front of him. 

“I am hoping you don’t mind my being here at night, Little Thing,” he said in bed one night, after a week of stopping by to sleep with her. “I have come to the conclusion that I like it here better than Mellie’s. She’s at Joe’s a lot now.”

“I love you, Clyde. You can be here with me,” RJ said.

“I love you, Rey Jayla,” Clyde said. He looked over at her with bright eyes. “I sleep where you sleep.”

RJ kissed his lips lightly. “I sleep where you sleep, too, my big man.”

RJ looked for an opportunity to corner Clyde about using Dragon Speak. She diligently brought her work laptop home every day, but he was often too tired at night to even carry on much of a conversation, much less learn something new and work on homework. He still typed on her laptop sometimes on his days off, but one look at his determined face stopped RJ from pushing the Dragon Speak idea.


	8. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Big Man's Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen from the Disability Office:
> 
> "You know I’ve worked with these guys and others like Clyde with visible and invisible disabilities. One thing they share is a sense that they are ‘less-than’ other people. They always have something to prove—to us, to their families, to themselves. They aren’t regular students who think, ‘oh, sure, that would help me out.’ These individuals often think we’re giving them an advantage they didn’t earn or trying to highlight their disabilities when they want to be like everyone else. Clyde sounds like he’s doing exactly that. It’s time for you to get a clue. He’s blown you off how many times? You better get the hint. You can’t force someone to take the easy road.”

_Once upon a time, there was a big man who was a mystery to those around him._

One morning, after Clyde left to go to Mellie’s for a change of clothes, RJ found a couple of hundred-dollar bills stashed part way under the coffee maker. She drove to Mellie’s to give it back, and Clyde almost came unglued, yelling about charity and his eating her food up.

He was wild-eyed and pissed.

“Oh, calm the fuck down, Clyde Logan,” Rey shouted back at him. “I’m telling you I don’t need money to feed your face.”

“We’ve been through this already,” Clyde hollered.

“It was high school, you…”

“Stop calling me names, Rey-Jay.”

“I don’t mean nothing by it,” she muttered.

“Yeah, well, it gets fucking old to be called a pighead by you.”

“If you didn’t act like one, we’d be all set.” RJ stood with the money in her hand. “I don’t know what to do with these.”

Clyde pursed his lips. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d tell you what to do with them. But since I do, I’m going to say put them in the bank. I’m about to fucking pack my shit and move in with you. Mellie wants to sell. She’s moving in with Joe full time.”

“Oh,” RJ said.

“Can I?”

“Yes, surely.”

This wasn’t the time for talking about laptops and programs. Clyde was moving in, and he loved her. She temporarily let go of the idea that Clyde should use Dragon Speak. They had enough going on trying to get him situated and moving boxes across town. 

On moving day, Jimmy had to work out of town, so Joe Bang “supervised,” while Mellie, RJ, and Clyde carried every box. Mellie kicked Joe with her platforms accidentally on purpose and made him go home without her. RJ’s laptop sat unused and forgotten in her work bag. She took it back to the Writing Center and left it there.

It was a couple weeks after Clyde moved in that RJ packed up her laptop and walked down a flight of stairs and down the hall to the Wellness office. Gwen’s administrative assistant was at the front desk. RJ could see Gwen sitting in her office, scrolling on the computer and drinking a cup of coffee.

“May I go in?” RJ asked Gwen’s assistant. Gwen looked up and called RJ into the office.

RJ sat herself down in a chair in front of Gwen’s desk. The other woman indicated the cup of coffee. “Hey, girl. Want some?”

“I’m all set.”

“How are you? Hanging in there?”

“I am, thank you kindly for asking,” RJ said. She chewed her lip.

“Am I to suppose you want to talk about your man?”

“My man? What man is that, Gwen?”

Gwen snorted. “Now, don’t play cute with me, RJ. I’ve known you for a minute, and this kind of dumb-assery does not suit you. Not a’tall. Cut the shit.”

RJ got up and closed the door. She sat back down. “I was going to have you help me with Dragon Speak as a ruse, but since the gloves are off, let’s just speak it.” RJ put both hands on the desk. “Why don’t you say what you want to? No more bullshit warnings and hints. Just tell me the bottom line outright.”

“Fine. First, if you’re sleeping with Clyde Logan, you are not capable of helping him with anything and you should step back from even trying. If you’re in love with him, that goes double. You are not thinking clearly.”

RJ pressed her lips together to keep from biting Gwen’s head off. That was an awfully big assumption for Gwen to make. However, she was not at all wrong. She nodded at Gwen once.

“You don’t have to confirm or deny any relationship. It’s not my business, girl. But I’m just saying… If you love him, step back from Clyde’s college life.”

Gwen paused and took a deep breath and sip of coffee.

“Now, this, this is harder. You know I’ve worked with these guys and others like Clyde with visible and invisible disabilities. One thing they share is a sense that they are ‘less-than’ other people. They always have something to prove—to us, to their families, to themselves. They aren’t regular students who think, ‘oh, sure, that would help me out.’ These individuals often think we’re giving them an advantage they didn’t earn or trying to highlight their disabilities when they want to be like everyone else. Clyde sounds like he’s doing exactly that. It’s time for you to get a clue. He’s blown you off how many times? You better get the hint. You can’t force someone to take the easy road.”

“But…” RJ started.

“No, stop. Listen to me. I saw the tattoo on Clyde’s forearm. Did you?”

“Of course.”

“Did you ask him about it?” Gwen asked.

“No,” RJ said. She didn’t want to tell Gwen that when they were together, they didn’t always talk a lot. Clyde seemed content to exist in friendly silence, punctuated by their collective moans while they pleasured each other.

“He was Special Ops. That’s what the tattoo is. He might not want to talk about it or maybe he can’t tell you. I don’t know how these things work. But I guarantee he has seen some shit. And he would not have been Special Ops if he wasn’t damn good.”

RJ stared at Gwen. “You’re saying that he’s used to facing challenges and dealing with difficult situations.”

“Yes—and overcoming them. Dragon Speak or other modifications might seem like cheating or taking the easy way out, something he’s not used to doing.”

RJ contemplated that idea. Gwen might be right. It didn’t make sense to RJ in the least. She’d had it hard growing up, and when her family took her in, she was quite willing to take her ease. Except… if she was really honest with herself, she didn’t trust their love and kindness at first. 

She remembered May Jackson, now her Momma, coming over and telling the Plutts that Rey Jayla was moving. That day. Right then. And that May was calling the police and the authorities and some other people—everyone she could call. She was taking this tiny child away from those ignorant people, who didn’t know the first thing about raising nobody. She and Fred would raise this girl their own selves, thank you very much. 

If May Jackson got wound up, you better take a step back. The Plutts took that step back.

RJ was terrified, but May and Fred Jackson loved her so very much. They not only took her in, they applied to adopt her. They told her they were her parents forever. In the beginning, RJ hoarded food and hid clothes and did all kinds of things she could tell made Momma crazy.

But eventually they’d worked it all out. Momma and Daddy’s big laps and bigger hugs were always available to little RJ. She began to trust them, and she stopped making life so hard on herself because she thought she’d be thrown away again.

Perhaps Clyde had a similar idea.

Or maybe he had something to prove.

Either way, RJ agreed with Gwen. She had to give him his space, like her own family had given her.


	9. Once Upon a Time, There Was a Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Clyde rolled in from work, he was wound up and tense as hell. He stalked around the house for a few, looking under the mail, fiddling with items on the counter. Then, he rifled through his backpack and groaned. He pushed his hand through his hair.
> 
> “What’s up, big man?” RJ stood behind him and put her hands on his broad back.

_Once upon a time, there was a big man who felt good, until he remembered the Logan curse._

RJ walked by the computer lab and saw Clyde poking away again at the keys. She went in and sat with him. She didn’t say a word but waited until he was finished with his thought.

He leaned over and made kissy noises with his lips. RJ kissed him. She would never tire of touching her lips against his.

“Not worried about being seen with me?” he asked.

“No,” RJ said, even though the lab was crowded, and she thought she recognized some students. “I’m done caring. We’re living together. What the heck does it matter?”

“I can support you if you lose your job,” Clyde said.

“I know you can,” RJ said. She restrained herself from adding that she’d always made her own way. Maybe Clyde needed some reassurance that she counted on him. And she did. He paid his fair share with a burning look in his eyes, daring RJ to say anything. She was afraid he’d turn her over his knee if she made a peep. He worked harder than anyone she’d ever met. And he was ready and willing to love her, body and soul.

Every day she wanted to see him. Every moment they were apart, she wanted to be with him. She wondered what he was up to and what he was thinking about. She counted down the time to when he would come home, shower, eat, and crawl in bed with her. 

Indeed, Clyde could support her in every way.

Her admission was rewarded by a rare smile that reached Clyde’s eyes. As always, RJ was completed enchanted.

“I love you,” she said, softly.

He nuzzled in for another smooch. “I love you. And I have to work. Final paper,” he said.

“I can help you,” RJ said.

“Nope. Got an appointment with Poe. He’s not such a bad feller.”

“There’s a ringing endorsement. Don’t scare him, please. He’s my best tutor.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Clyde murmured and winked a tiny wink at RJ. She smacked his arm.

“See you at home, big man.”

“All right, Little Thing. I’ll be home promptly.”

When Clyde rolled in from work, he was wound up and tense as hell. He stalked around the house for a few, looking under the mail, fiddling with items on the counter. Then, he rifled through his backpack and groaned. He pushed his hand through his hair.

“What’s up, big man?” RJ stood behind him and put her hands on his broad back.

He jumped a little when she touched him. “I got class tomorrow. I didn’t finish. I lost my fucking flash drive. I thought it was in the bottom of my bag or here at home, but it is just plain missing. Fuck!” 

He sat down on the couch and groaned again. He stared at RJ with a tortured expression, his lips quivering slightly. He spoke softly, defeated. “What the fuck am I going to do? It’s due tomorrow and I had it almost done. I was going to print it out in the morning.”

RJ sat with him. “Let’s turn that bag upside down.” She grabbed his backpack.

They searched the bag, the house, and Clyde’s truck. The flash drive was gone.

Clyde got more wound up and started growling like a possessed man.

RJ touched his arm with the prosthesis and took his mechanical fingers in hers. “I know. I get it. This is freaky. But it can be dealt with, Clyde. It can.”

He yanked his hand away. His voice rose in panic. “No, you don’t understand, Rey. This is what they look for. The shithead who can’t hack it in college. The gimpy vet who is too shell-shocked to get it the fuck together. This is what I’m talking about. When everything goes well, the Logan curse kicks in. It always does. It happened to momma and daddy and Uncle Stickly and Jimmy with his knee and me with my arm. And I should have just known better.”

“This can be fixed, Clyde, I swear it. If you just let me help you.”

“No, you can’t. I shouldn’t have even thought I could have a girl like you. What are you thinking, Clyde Logan? Are you dumb as hell? Just what were you thinking?”

RJ could see that he was going down a very dark path. He jumped off the couch, grabbed his keys.

“I got to go,” he said.

“Wait,” RJ shouted after him.

Clyde pushed the door open and walked outside. “No, Rey. I got to go.” He jumped in his truck, fired it up, and backed out with a jerk.

RJ watched Clyde scream off into the night.

Her first call was Mellie, who sounded peaceful and sleepy.

“It’s just Clyde’s way,” she said, yawning. “Pay him no mind. ‘Night.” She hung up.

RJ’s second call was to Jimmy. “I’m working late tonight. I can’t lose my job, RJ. Clyde will come around. He always does.”

RJ’s third call was to her mother, who put her father on the phone. “Good Jesus, girl, you know what time it is. We're old people,” he groused.

“I know, Daddy, but I think I done lost Clyde.” RJ started crying into the phone, great huge sobs.

Her dad sighed. “It’s all right. No, now, don’t you cry. I got you. I got you, daughter.”

She told her dad the story and told him what kind of truck Clyde drove.

Last call was to Gwen’s voice mailbox. RJ hiccupped but tried to sound at least a bit professional. She asked Gwen to run interference with Clyde’s professor, even though Clyde might blow a gasket, if he knew. That was just too bad for him. He didn’t know how to do college and RJ did. RJ knew exactly what to do. Clyde probably had no idea he could email his professor and tell her what happened. She might be willing to grant him another day. Or not. But it was worth a try.

It wasn’t worth stomping out and doing something stupid.

RJ’s momma called her a half hour later. “Your daddy’s at that bar with Clyde. They're having a few. I think your man’s glad of having somebody to speak to, and your daddy might be, too. His arthritis is acting up. He don’t like to go out that much because it hurts him too bad.”

“I know, momma. I know. I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry for dragging you into my private affairs. I was just worried, is all.”

“I know you were, and you're a good girl to do that for your Clyde. You take care of that big man, now. Your daddy'll bring him home soon enough. Night-night, daughter.”

“’Night, momma.”

Sure enough, within a half hours’ time, Clyde’s big truck pulled into the driveway, followed by RJ’s dad in his SUV.

They both got out. Fred Jackson put his arm around Clyde’s shoulders. They were about the same height.

RJ ran up to the two of them. Fred caught her in a bear hug.

“There’s my girl,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek.

She smiled at Clyde and reached for him. He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sorry to kiss your daughter in front of you, sir. I just love her,” Clyde said, looking at Fred.

“It’s all right, son. She's all yours,” Fred said, patting Clyde. “Now, take your ass into the house and quit making me come out and get you in the middle of the night.”

Clyde looked sheepish. “I am so sorry, sir. I’ll do as you tell me if there is a next time. I’ll knock on y’all’s door instead.”

“Yes, sir. That’s the way. I expect you going to be my son-in-law sometime.” He raised his eyebrows and looked between RJ and Clyde.

“I imagine so, if she’ll say yes to me. I ain’t asked her yet,” Clyde said.

“Don’t be too slow. I need some grandbabies,” Fred said. “I've got to go. Your momma doesn't like being home by herself this time of night.”

“Kiss her for me, daddy.” RJ hugged her dad again.

“I will. ‘Night, you two. And Clyde… don’t be a pigheaded dumbass. Let this girl help you.” RJ’s father got into his SUV and pulled out of the driveway.

Clyde and RJ walked in the house arm in arm. “You want to say something?” RJ asked.

“I’m sorry, Rey-Jay, I truly am. I freaked out,” Clyde said, not looking at RJ.

“I was just worried about you. I wasn’t thinking about an apology, though.” RJ snuggled into Clyde.

“What then?”

“How about a proposal?” RJ grinned up at him. “My daddy said so.”

“I’m terrified of him. He’s bigger than I am.” Clyde scratched his beard.

RJ laughed. “So that’s the only reason you would propose to me?”

“Nope,” Clyde said. “I’m scared of your momma, too. She’d whoop my ass if I didn’t do right by her little baby girl.”

Clyde kissed RJ. “I’m going to take a shower, then I’m going to eat food. Next, I plan to figure out what I’m supposed to do about this fucking paper, propose to you, and then take you to bed. Deal?”

“Deal,” RJ said. “If you shut me out of one thing on that list, the deal’s off. Understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clyde said. “Your daddy yelled at me, too. Y’all got a thing about pig’s heads.”

“That’s because we’re a pigheaded family, like you Logans.”

“Takes one to know one,” Clyde murmured. He tugged RJ toward the bathroom. “Come on, let’s start on our to-be-do list.”


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, there was a big man who worked hard to get the hell over himself.

_Once upon a time, there was a big man who worked hard to get the hell over himself._

Clyde Logan managed to talk himself into emailing his professor, who kindly granted him an extension. It was unknown if Gwen had gotten to the professor first or not. It didn’t really make much difference either way. He ended up with a B+ in the class itself, which made him happy.

RJ showed Clyde how to work the Dragon Speak voice-to-text program to speed up the process of getting his paper turned in. Once he put the headphones and mic on, there was no stopping him from writing down his thoughts on everything. He even picked up the laptop from the Wellness office and started using the split keyboard and other helpful accessible options that came with it. RJ just rolled her eyes at Clyde’s enthusiasm for all the bells and whistles on his new toy. Like it had been his idea all along.

Clyde’s next English class netted him an A, even without the help of one Rey Jayla Logan, his loving wife, who ran the Writing Center.

_Once upon a time, there was a big man who fought his own damn self. He thought he’d won and felt he’d lost—and finally discovered that he had it all._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Y'all come back now, hear?


End file.
